Chapter Thirty-One
Thirteen days after Elliot recalls me to DC, and it’s like I wasn’t away from the city for an hour. I didn’t realize how much being back and settling in and working in the White House was going to…drain me.
Totally.
Somehow, I forgot how much Leo helped me shed my stress at the end of a day. Or even during the day, if he stopped by my office to say hello or chat with me for a moment. Little interludes like that went a hell of a long way toward keeping me sane and focused.
Not having Leo to ground me now isn’t helping, either.
Not having Leo at all is…
It sucks. All right? It totally sucks, and I know it’s my fault.I’mthe dumbass who walked away. But if I hadn’t, I might not be here right now.
My every memory of this building isfilledwith Leo. The things we’ve done here.
The DNA we’ve left all over the place.
It’s after nine p.m. when Elliot finally finishes his day in the office. I made sure he’s already eaten dinner, so I don’t have a surly boy to deal with when we get home.
On the ride home—and that’s something else I’m trying to adjust to, that Elliot’s residence is literally nowmyhome—I guess it shows.
His soft voice catches my attention. “Sir? Are you all right?”
I realize I was staring out the window. I force a smile and reach over to pat him on the thigh. “Sorry. I’m tired and my mind’s chattering at me. The past two weeks have been a whirlwind.” And calculating the countdown of Leo returning with the president in seven days adds to my stress levels.
I’m still trying to convince myself that some fairytale ending won’t be possible for me and Leo, even knowing he’s apparently worried about me.
Not any ending like I once hoped for.
It’s better that way, though. To not get my hopes up. That way, it won’t hurt so much when it doesn’t happen. Because when Leo returns, he’s liable to hate my guts for not telling him all of the above.
It’ll help me avoid the crushing disappointment I’ll feel by already taking that rejection to heart and processing it so it’s not a shocker.
To prevent him from having any power to wield over me.
When I start to draw my hand away, Elliot catches it and squeezes.
Something else that takes me by surprise.
He’s initiating a PDA like this? We’re safely hidden in the SUV, but still, that’s…
Not like Elliot. Not normally.
He continues to hold my hand. Right there, on the seat.
May not sound like a big thing to you, but trust me, for Elliot?
It’s frickinghuge.
I suck in a shuddering breath, because while he holds on, his thumb strokes the back of my knuckles.
And he looks me in the eyes. I made him take his contacts out an hour ago, so he’s in his glasses.
I’ve always felt a little less-than next to Elliot. My own issue, not anything he or Leo did to make me feel that way. Elliot’s hot, he’s got a degree that’s actually really useful when it comes to working for the government, he’s a decorated vet—did I mention he’s hot?
Yet in this moment, I feel an unusual sense of peace settle over me at this simple gesture.
He’s not letting go.
